


A Bit Soon

by Interrobang



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, the conclusion of the slowest burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25016959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobang/pseuds/Interrobang
Summary: “I wish you would turn back,” Aziraphale says almost absentmindedly, settling into the couch further while he runs a warm finger across the most comfortable part of Crowley’s triangular head. “I would very much like to kiss you right now.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	A Bit Soon

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I haven't watched the recent Prime show but have read the book about a dozen times over my life so like. Take that into consideration. Shouldn't affect much, but it's important to me.

Crowley is lounging in a nice spot of sunshine on the chaise in A.Z. Fell and Co’s bookshop, curled into a nice little pile against Aziraphale’s leg while the angel reads, when Aziraphale gently drops a surprise brick on Crowley’s tail. 

“I wish you would turn back,” he says almost absentmindedly, settling into the couch further while he runs a warm finger across the most comfortable part of Crowley’s triangular head. “I would very much like to kiss you right now.”

It’s been two years since the non-Apocalypse. The two of them have settled into a comfortable routine of meddling just the right amount (with Her permission). They’ve just sent Adam off to middle-grade, watching from afar and maybe-maybe-not using a minor miracle to straighten an off-kilter button on his uniform, then come back to the shop to undo the stress of it all with a good strong cup of tea and a book Aziraphale had yet to re-read while Crowley dozes. 

This, however, has jolted Crowley back into his bones so hard he thinks he might just discorporate from shock. 

But he’s cool. _So_ cool. So he sways his scaly head up, peering at Aziraphale calmly, tongue flickering out the only sign of his anxiety. He uncurls away from the angel over to what he’s come to think of as “his” side of the chaise before corporating back to his mostly-human-shaped body, sitting in what he hopes comes across as a casual lounge. 

“Now?” He asks, breathing perhaps a hair faster.

“Oh, I _knew_ it was a bit soon,” Aziraphale says, face falling. “I’m being too forward.” He takes off his glasses (ridiculous, only for show) and rubs at his eyes even though he doesn’t get eye strain, then moves as if to stand. Instantly Crowley stops him with a hand on his knee.

“Forward? A bit _soon_?” he asks, flabbergasted. “ _A bit soon?_ Angel, we’ve known each other six thousand years.”

“And six thousand _and two_ ,” Aziraphale corrects, seemingly out of habit.

“Six thousand and two years and probably a scattering of days on top of that, yeah,” Crowley confirms. “A _bit soon_ would have been if you’d sauntered up to my little apple tree and asked for a peck. _Forward_ would have been perhaps if you’d propositioned me as we watched the tower of Babel rise and fall. I might have been a touch shy if you’d asked me at little baby Jesus’s first birthday party while they passed around the dates and coffee.”

“Locally grown and ethically sourced. Best dates I’ve ever eaten,” the angel laments.

“Angel.” Crowley pulls his sunglasses off, revealing deep-socketed yellow eyes flickering over Aziraphale’s face. “Look at me.”

And Aziraphale can do nothing _but_ look, astounded, suddenly, by the golden hue of the gaze in front of him, warm and wanting. 

“I might have been nervous if you’d asked me back in Revolutionary France. Maybe even a tad bit angsty if you’d hit me up in the trenches of the Cold War. 

“But here? Now?” He grabs Aziraphale’s shoulders, holding him still. “I sleep next to you. In this body. Here. Not because you’re warm and my scaly heart needs to keep beating, but because my scaly heart beats—” He screws his mouth up, finally willing the words to come out. “Well, it beats _for_ you.”

“So—” Aziraphale stares at him again, a tiny crinkle starting to form between his brows. 

“So kiss me.” Crowley says, a grin creeping onto his face.

Aziraphale beamed.

And God saw Her creation, and it was good. 

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on twitter at twitter.com/GoInterrobang to see what else I'm working on!
> 
> (also: when I say Aziraphale _beamed_ I obviously mean THIS: https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/001/839/788/507.jpg


End file.
